


Circle of Gold

by ErikaWilliams



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriages, Hunk is a metal smith's apprentice, Keith is a prince, M/M, royal au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 20:26:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10343937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErikaWilliams/pseuds/ErikaWilliams
Summary: His thumb ran absentmindedly along the fine crafting of the circle of gold he turned through his hands.  He sighed as he remembered the hands that had wrought such intricate designs, interlacing strands of ivy inlaid with the deepest rubies.  It was a crown fit for a king, and a king was what he must be.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally supposed to be posted in time for Heith Week 2017 Fire/Gold; however, due to personal issues, the angst made this a difficult write for me and it took far longer than intended.

In the dark interior of the carriage, Keith ran his hands over the crown his father had sent with him while he tried to forget about the contents of the box on the bench across from him. He couldn’t see it, not with the curtains drawn as tight as he could possibly get them, but it did not help him forget the existence of that oak chest across from him with its silver inlays. Nothing could push away the drone that the chest and its contents infested his mind with. If only he could forget about what that chest foretold, turn back the days to when his life had been simpler and he had known nothing about this cross-country journey he now undertook.

His thumb ran absentmindedly along the fine crafting of the circle of gold he turned through his hands. He sighed as he remembered the hands that had wrought such intricate designs, interlacing strands of ivy inlaid with the deepest rubies. It was a crown fit for a king, and a king was what he must be. Especially now that he was leaving home, leaving everything he had ever known behind to go rule over some distant land instead. His thumb caressed one of the rubies as the steady clopping of the horses hooves on the cobbled road helped his mind drift back.

It had begun, he supposed, like most of the best stories did, when a willful young prince decided to escape the leash of his watchful guard to see what life was like outside of being a prince. He had been in a carriage much like this one, but at the time it had seemed more like a cage than the welcome escape from reality it was now. 

They had been stopped for some reason, someone’s mule had stopped in the middle of the road or something, he couldn’t quite recall. While his keepers had been inspecting the delay, he had sneaked out of the carriage and into the crowd. His flight had lead him to take refuge inside a local metal shop. The owner had been away, but the apprentice had valiantly told the guard that no, he had not seen the prince. Come to think of it, he had never actually gotten close enough to the prince to rightly say what he looked like. For those few minutes, while he had hidden in a backroom and listened to the conversation, that apprentice had become his hero. 

And that was the story of how Hunk, a metal smith’s apprentice had become best friends with the prince of the realm. He spent a lot of time in that metal shop over the next couple of years. In fact, he spent so much time there that his parents decided the owner must be good at his craft and had made him their own personal smith. In a series of small mistakes that snowballed into events beyond his grasp, letting his parents know where he had been going every afternoon was probably the least forgivable.

He and Hunk had been young, and it wasn’t long before his afternoons at the metal shop became far less innocent when the owner wasn’t around. He blamed himself. He had made the first move. Hunk never would have had the courage to initiate something like that on his own. He had been down at the shop on an exceptionally hot day, and he had been sweltering while he stood there and watched Hunk work. He had been so distracted by the muscles in Hunk’s arms gleaming with sweat that before long they were both naked up in the little loft Hunk lived in. And it kept happening, again and again and again, and he couldn’t stop himself even though he was certain his parents would have flayed them both alive if they had known. 

He would not have traded those afternoons with Hunk for anything. The loft was cozy, if a little warm during the hot part of summer, but that just made him all the more eager to get his and Hunk’s clothes off. Sure, there were other things they could be doing, but somehow he had always felt like their time together would be short. Perhaps it was because there was always the threat that sooner or later, the master would come back and catch Hunk not working. Or perhaps it was the fear that one day his parents would find out, and they certainly had the means to put that dalliance to an end.

Maybe if he had been bold enough to tell the truth, he could have had a clean break earlier. Maybe then it would have hurt less. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel like some demon had clawed inside his heart as he remember all that he had had with Hunk. He wouldn’t cry. The time for tears had come and gone.

Inside the oak chest across from him was a smaller circle to match the one in his hands. They had both been so artfully crafted by the same deft hands, the hands of a metal smith whose heart had once belonged to him. If only they could have parted on better terms.

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” he had yelled across the forge, trying to make himself be heard about the sound of Hunk’s hammer. Hunk had ignored him, seemingly devoted to the task in front of him. Keith knew better. He knew Hunk wanted little to do with his most recent assignment. Keith never would have asked it of him, but his parents had wanted their best metal smith on the job. The master, recognizing that his apprentice was becoming the more skilled when it came to working gold, had passed the assignment on.

“I never asked you to hide in the smithy that day,” Hunk retorted, moving his position to get a better angle. Or rather moving his position so he would no longer be able to see Keith.

“Hunk, that’s not fair,” he had said, taking a few imploring steps forward. None of it was fair. Not to either of them. He certainly did not want to leave the only home he had ever known. “Hunk, please just talk to me.”

“Funny. You never seemed that interested in talking to me before.”

He shouldn’t have fought with him, and his damnable pride had prevented him from going back. The master had delivered the completed project to the castle himself and had taken all the credit.

Keith had set out on this journey to his new home, with his crown and the matching one for his future bride. He was to present the crown to her on their wedding day, which was also the day he would meet her. He tried not to think about her too much. She had not asked for any of this either, and he did not want to resent her for something she had no control of. For all he knew, she could have a love of her own. Of course, unlike him, she was staying in her own kingdom and would not have to say goodbye.

He leaned back against the plush bench and closed his eyes. His fingertips memorized the intricate details of the crown. All he took with him of Hunk were his memories and this last reminder of his handiwork.

A third circle had been made, unknown by the metal smith or any member of the royal family. It was just a tiny, plain band, no bigger than a man’s finger, made with gold scrapped from the prince’s crown. No one’s ever seen the third circle, but the maker of it wears it on a chain around his neck, the ring always held close to his heart.


End file.
